WORKING TITLE HERE - drabbles and nonesense
by feauxen
Summary: This is a series of drabbles all contained in the same universe, one I am currently building into a workable story. I can't summarize here, due to character limits, but you can watch and enjoy the ride with me as I try to build something from the ground up. If you have a title idea, PM me. I'll create an OC for the person (if it's not me) who comes up with the story's title.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm so deeply sorry, I'm sure many of you thought that this was a continuation of a story I labeled as dead. In a way, it is, but I won't lie and tell you that's what it's meant to be.**

CONTINGENCY ORDER THETA-D

After hastily finishing his first crucial task, Dobby looked around at the mayhem, and sighed. His longtime partner's instructions had been clear, and even with everything that had happened, they persisted. So he did the natural thing, and followed those contingency orders to the letter.

Would he ever see his partner again? Dobby couldn't say. Theta-D was as close to a worst case scenario as a contingency plan could get, after all. But deep down inside, something in Dobby told him that all wasn't lost. And as he looked into the infant's glowing green eyes, he couldn't bring himself to disagree with that unknowable impulse. So as he performed exactly what Theta-D required, Dobby felt something that had been wearing thin in recent years. Hope. And maybe that was all he needed.

OOO

When Hagrid heard the crack, he knew the house was falling apart. He'd been approaching cautiously, but now he abandoned all of that caution. As he rushed in, he couldn't see the beam that he assumed had snapped, but he could see James. That almost stopped him, but he pressed onward. His nose, mediocre though it may have been, was good enough to tell him that there was only one survivor here. So when he saw Lily, he stepped over her too, mourning all the while, unable to stop the thick, salty tears running down his face.

And then he saw the eyes. Those eyes…Hagrid felt something stirring in him. Unknowingly mirroring the emotions Dobby had experienced mere moments earlier, Hagrid felt hope begin to stir within him for the first time in what seemed like forever. Those were Lily's eyes. And if that hair was anything to judge by, the wee lad had gotten the best of both of his parents. So he choked out a few reassurances, picked up the lad, and marveled at how perfectly the child fit into the palm of his hand. Then he turned to leave.

And paused. He couldn't just leave them like this. The lad would understand. So he shifted Harry to his other hand and picked up Lily before hurrying down to the living room, scooping James up as he made his way back outside. Once he was outside, he saw a friendly, familiar face. As Hagrid delicately put down two of his best friends, Sirius Black walked up and laid an understanding hand on his elbow.

"Are…are they…?" Sirius couldn't seem to get the words out.

"Little tyke here made it, but…" Hagrid could get the words out either.

Sirius stiffened, and then let out a choked sound. As he knelt next to the best friend he'd ever had, and the woman who he'd always thought was kinda hot. "James…Lily…what have-" he choked down a sob, unable to finish the thought.

Hagrid couldn't stand it. Sirius was as good a lad as James had ever been, and a good friend. "Look, they're still with us," he said, handing the lad over, "He's got her eyes…an' his hair."

Sirius took the child numbly. The two seemed to stare deeply into each other's eyes for the longest time, before Sirius actually _smiled._ And even laughed, in a strangled way. "Ha! He does at that. He really does." The Sirius grew pensieve. "Hagrid, I'm his godfather. Let me take him. Someone has to take care of him, and I can make sure he grows up right."

Hagrid shook his big head. "'Fraid I can't let yeh do that, Sirius. Dumbledore's orders. He'll be safe, don't you worry."

Sirius looked back up at Hagrid. "Alright. But you take care now. I'll not have my godson growing up to be some stiff-necked fop because he got dropped on his head." The humor fell flat; even Sirius couldn't work up a smile anymore.

Hagrid placed a hand on his massive chest, right over his heart. "You have my solemn word."

At that, Sirius handed the baby back to Hagrid, and took one last, long look at the bodies of his friends on the ground. Then he turned to leave. "You can have my bike. I shouldn't need it much, and it's a smoother ride that that damnable bus." He muttered more, but he was facing away, and Hagrid couldn't make it out. Then he walked away, vanishing with a sharp crack.

Hagrid followed him after one last look at James and Lily (and a watery sniff of his nose). As he threw a leg over the…bike, had Sirius said? Hagrid looked over the controls. It took some experimenting, but he figured out the basics soon enough. Tucking the lad into a pocket, swaddled in cloth, and making sure his head poked out, Hagrid took off into the night, not even giving surprised when the contraption started flying. That's how transportation worked in his mind, after all. That bus thing only drove on the ground because it was always picking people up.

And as he flew, Hagrid once more felt that stirring of hope within himself. With the night air blowing past and the best parts the two greatest people Hagrid had ever known along for the ride, maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe the storm had passed.

OOO

Much later, Hagrid had gone through several storms and weathered them all. And wouldn't you know, the little tyke was sleeping.

 **A/N: This is an announcement, and a teaser. My beta's currently a bit...unresponsive, but this is here anyway, because why not. Future drabbles for this story (the one I mentioned recently, a spiritual successor of sorts to** ** _Harry Potter and the Significance of Subtleties_** **) will be posted alongside this one, in a separate story called WORKING TITLE HERE-drabbles and nonesense. It will be called this until I come up with a relevant working title, because due to a minor and recent continuity rework,** ** _Undercover_** **doesn't work so well anymore, and I'm trashing the idea.**

 **Best of wishes,**

 **feauxen**

 **P.S. I am truly sorry to any fans of SoS, but this will in all likelihood be the** ** _last_** **update to this work. The project is well and truly ground to a halt, and replaced with another. At this point, you really do know as much as I do, because I haven't made and won't make new plans or outlines for the storyline.**

 **I do apologize.**

 **~f**


	2. Future, then past

**A/N: So these are…well these drabbles are more like the teasers of what's to come, and they're going to be incredibly vague. Also, everything here is subject to change without warning, but I like to think that an observant follower could figure out what and why if that ever happens.**

The man who had been born as Harry James Potter all those years ago stopped his work and sighed. He was attempting to carve runes into a cave wall that might, theoretically, add to the protections he was setting up, but it had been _centuries_ since he'd even thought about the language the runes were based off of, and the work was going incredibly slowly. He wasn't even entirely sure anyone but him remembered what Latin was anymore, and these Latin-based protective runes had never been common knowledge.

A brief mental interruption gave the man pause yet again, before he chuckled and went back to his work.

Of course Dobby still remembered Latin. Dobby never seemed to forget anything.

* * *

Two beings floated through the vast darkness of space. The short one turned to the taller one.

"Are we there yet?"

The tall one counted backwards from one hundred in his head. When he made it all the way down to one, almost as if waiting for that exact moment, the short one spoke again.

"Are we there yet?"

The tall one exploded. "DOBBY, WE ARE FLYING THROUGH SPACE AT NEARLY THE SPEED OF LIGHT! COULD YOU JUST CAN IT FOR TWO SECONDS!?"

The short one, commonly known as Dobby, just smiled in a particularly silly fashion. The tall one sighed. At this rate, if would be a _looooong_ hundred years.

Dobby secretly agreed, but whether he thought that was good or bad…impossible to say.

* * *

George was not having a good morning. He hated mornings, especially Saturday mornings. They were evil, and shouldn't exist. They should just let Saturday afternoons take over their jobs and cease to exist.

As he turned around in his bed, George saw a flicker of movement, and froze. Slowly, he turned to face it. And then, everything changed. Not that George minded terribly. It was the best Saturday morning ever, and it led him into a lifetime of prosperity and wealth.

* * *

A man who practically glowed with power burst through the door of the small room.

"Gedditoff, gedditoff gedditoffgdditoffgedditoff!" he quite literally shrieked, brushing frantically at his arms and legs. The power gathered around him swirled lightly at his motions. "Dobby. Dobby!" The man's expression grew panicked, and his brushing motions stopped. "Dobby?" Nothing happened. For a moment, the man swore he could hear a response, that…that irritating Dobby voice. Then the moment passed.

Now fully panicking, the man looked around fitfully. The room was bare, white, and small, nothing more than a secondary chamber for ritual containment. There was nothing that could help him find his best friend.

"Dobby!" The man cried. "Dobby, I didn't mean you! You're always welcome, Dobby! Please! Please…please come back, Dobby." The energy flared oddly, and the man looked down. Then he disregarded it. There were more important things to worry about right now. "Dobby, please, I just want you back. If you got locked out, come back, come in, I welcome thee, come in yo, please, I beseech you to…" This time, rather than flaring, the energy began to dissipate. But the man quickly realized it wasn't going just anywhere. It was flowing _into_ _him._ "Wha-Dobby?" The man's eyes closed briefly, and he let out a huge sigh of relief. "Dobby." Just the name. That was enough. Dobby was still alive. Dobby wasn't lost forever to some weird ritual. The man sank to his knees. Then he heard a very familiar voice, and looked up.

He couldn't help himself. The man grinned and embraced the very best friend he'd yet to know.

* * *

The cosmic entity's rage quite literally shook the universe. He ruled this particular universe, after all, and everything in it was little more than an extension of his own being. And so when he became angry, an entire universe's wrath was brought to bear on the subject of his fury. And yet.

AND YET THAT PUNY THING PERSISTED FORWARD IN 4-DIMENSIONAL SPACE FOR AS FAR AS ANYONE COULD SEE!

The very fabric of the universe's reality began to groan. It couldn't take much more of this. And then a scream came, across all universes and realities that the being was aware of. A promise, a curse, a trap. Rage embodied. Only the furthest, or the most protected areas were safe.

 **EVERYTHING WILL END. EVERYTHING YOU ARE WILL END. I WILL BE THERE, YOU UNKNOWABLE. I WILL END YOU, AND I WILL ENSURE THAT YOU DO NOT ENJOY YOUR END.**

And so, the course of entire civilizations, entire universes, fundamentally shifted. Perhaps the damage could be undone. But perhaps it couldn't. Even time wouldn't tell. This wound went beyond the influence of mere _time._

* * *

 **A/N: Hehehehehe ;)**

 **Best of wishes,**

 **feauxen**


	3. Doc9

**A/N: So…this started as an unnamed file with the designation "Doc9." I…may have gotten a bit carried away.**

 **Also, sidenote, I forgot the after-upload edits on the last chapter, and made a minor mistake in extra-dimensional theory. So that's now different.**

* * *

"Hang on, you're the _what?"_ The rather ancient being was not amused.

The _other_ ancient being, however…

"The Doctor!" He was clearly amused.

"No."

"…yes?"

"No. I'm not doing this again! Dobby, I told you I wasn't doing this again!"

A voice seemed to leak out of the walls, saying, "But that time was different, sir."

The _other_ ancient being looked around in curiosity. "Hang on…I recognize that voice." He then reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a silver…was that some kind of technological wand? The tip of this…device began to glow blue, and a bizarre sound started to penetrate the surroundings.

"Oh…it tickles…stop! I'm ticklish, uncle, uncle, UNCLE!" Dobby's voice then promptly vanished, and the first ancient being felt his friend settle deep within one of their favorite hiding spaces.

The _other_ ancient being stopped making his wand glow. "Yep, knew I recognized it. Some kind of pesky thingy from…oh boy. I think it started with a 'D.' Yeah, definitely a 'D.'"

The now righteously angry ancient being practically shouted, "Dobby is _not_ a _pest!_ You are the pest here, _healer!"_

The _other_ ancient being looked quite shocked. "The prank demon has a…proper name? And…allies? I'd never have-"

"DOBBY IS MORE THAN A PRANKSTER, YOU CRETIN! NOW YOU _WILL_ EXPLAIN YOURSELF IN FULL THIS INSTANT OR I _WILL_ MAKE YOU SORELY REGRET IT!"

Oddly, the _other_ ancient being wasn't too frightened by that. On the contrary, he seemed to grow some backbone just hearing the threat. "Oh, if you want a fight, I'm more than willing, mate. I just blew up a planet full of civilians to stop a _war._ If you think you know even the slightest thing about me-"

"The last _being_ I knew who could say that was the most evil _being_ in the universe," the ancient human spat the word _being_ as though it offended him, "and you aren't looking much better yourself. So why don't you tell me just exactly why blowing up _CIVILIANS_ was worth ending a mere conflict?"

Of all the things, that actually made the _other_ ancient being pause. "I…I suppose I should, shouldn't I." And so he did. He spared no detail, and by the time he was done, the ancient beings knew quite a lot about each other. From the hassle of over-large ears in the middle of a crash landing to the trouble of working with both magic and technology at the same time. And, of course, the unending Horror called War.

But after swapping a few soldier's tales, they both moved to lighter, happier topics by an unspoken agreement. They were each quite well-traveled, and by the time they were done, they'd reaffirmed that their wandering lifestyle was definitely worthwhile. Unfortunately, they both knew that the properties of the space they were occupying would prevent memories from escaping without effort neither of them really felt like expending.

But it was good, they agreed, to have someone to talk to like this. It eased both of their minds at a time when they really needed it.

It really was too bad they'd never meet again. But the Doctor, as the ancient being had given in to calling the _other_ ancient being, didn't think that it was quite appropriate to say never.

"It's more like…probably never, the way things go for me," he said.

"You too?" the ancient being asked in surprise.

They shared a knowing look.

"Damn straight," they said in unison, before breaking into a short fit of laughter.

Then they shook hands, and exchanged a few gifts that might just make it back to their respective homes intact. And with one final parting wave, the two went their own ways.

Just like they always had.

* * *

 **A/N: Welp. This is now a thing. I won't be officially adding a crossover designation to this story, as much because this website's support for crossovers as complex as I have planned is minimal at best as anything else. This** _ **chapter,**_ **however, was definitely a crossover. I'll identify all crossover drabbles as such, unless I really have something to hide, or I forget, or I haven't thought of this rule yet (evil grin). But I won't tell you more than that. These are glimpses of a story that I haven't fully built even scaffolding for. As much as I want to act like I know everything and just** _ **won't**_ **tell you, I** _ **don't**_ **know everything, so I have to be deliberately vague for now.**

 **Best of wishes,**

 **feauxen**


	4. Unusual

**A/N: Welcome, and welcome back. I remembered horizontal lines this time. About 5 seconds after uploading...damn.  
**

* * *

The human stared at a being beyond his puny comprehension. He knew that was rude. He also didn't care.

"Come again?"

"I am, as you once put it so delicately, that bitch who calls herself the goddess of coincidence and misfortune. Fate."

The human's brain shut down. Then it rebooted. Then it took a few delicate steps toward the issue at hand, and crashed. With the lack of brain activity, there came a lack of structural support from his legs, and the human fell into a vague sitting position. The shock of the fall restarted the most basic of processes, and the human's mouth fell open.

"Uhhhhhh…" rapidly regaining function (this was only the _worst_ of the beings he'd met, after all) the human said, "I…don't know what to say. Can I go now? I should go…" The human then began rubbing his legs, trying to figure out the mystery of their unresponsiveness. But as the blood began to flow once more, his hopes were dashed.

"I did not bring you here to speak, human, I brought you here to listen. So listen, and I will tell you a story. Then, perhaps, you may find that your words return."

"Uhh-huh." The human promptly shut his mouth and continued to rub his legs.

"Once, there was an innocent child. She had quite a lot of potential, even by your standards, and so she caught quite a bit of unsavory attention. But with a bit of help, she overcame the obstacles in her path, and consequently learned the art of subtlety. Then, just as she was beginning to feel confidence, disaster. She found herself bound in the most uncommon of ways, and could no longer even speak directly with other intelligent beings. It was…most unpleasant, for the girl. But she persevered. You see, she could still exercise her art of subtlety, and so she did. She attempted to enlighten those friends she had once enjoyed. But all too soon, she found herself unable to raise all of her friends, and so she despaired.

"And then, almost by accident, someone stumbled upon her. This man…was quite silver-tongued, not that the girl particularly cared. She had a friend once more. She could joke, and laugh, and feel the pain of a true friendship. But all too soon, it ended. And the cruelty of friendship was revealed in its fullness. So the girl decided that playing with the toys that had become all of her domain would satisfy her for the rest of existence.

"Can you guess what went wrong? No? It matters not. Her plan went awry, as it was bound to, and the girl, now nearly a woman by her standards, learned a valuable lesson in relationship. Later, much later, you came along. And this, dear human, is where you are allowed to speak. For, you see, you have interested the bitch that no one seems to like very much, and she is quite curious."

The human slowly, shakily stood. Then he stared once more. "Me? I'm the one you picked out as interesting. Hell, how does that even work? Did I surprise the little girly after eons of alone time? Did I do something right? Lady, I am so not interested in whatever you're offering that it can't even be expressed in words, and I don't think I'd need to express it anyway. So why don't you just let me go on my way before I find my own way out, and make pains never to return?"

Musical laughter rang in the human's ears. "You could not escape even if you tried. You are still a human, after all, and to escape you would need to-"

The human was distinctly unsurprised to find that was the exact moment that something his eyes perceived as a fizzy black and white tunnel overcame him, and after not such a long time, he landed right in the middle of his most secure sanctum. He couldn't escape indeed! If he'd been the one working on the escape plan, he'd have been out of there before that bitch knew what he was up to.

Tilting his head as though acknowledging a point, the human then began reinforcing the defenses on his sanctum, and preparing all of the escape routes he could think of. Fighting Fate herself was a new one, but he'd been fighting fate for some time, and he had an idea how to start, if she truly wanted a fight. For now, though, he would stick to preparations.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you kindly, LiteratureSoccerEnthusiast, you are the first and so far only follower of this collection. I'm more greatful than you could know. Furthermore, thank you to each of the dozen readers so far for your attention. Aside from the one I know personally, I'm not sure how I would get your exact names, but you can be sure that I'm grateful to at least have** **some** **audience.**

 **Now, how to get them to review…**

 **Best of wishes,**

 **feauxen**


	5. things

**A/N: So a friend of mine sent me some plotholes the other day.**

"What is that?"

 _That_ was a black-colored hole in the surface of the planet, one which appeared not to have a bottom. And the curious mind checking this thing out had tried a lot more than just tossing a brick into this…thing. He wasn't even entirely certain that this was a magical phenomenon, because while it seemed to suck magic in from time to time, that magic was specific, and there didn't appear to be magic directly connected to the…thing.

"Alright, bitch. What've you got for me this time?" As he asked the question, the curious man felt a surge of magic from behind him. Not an attack…almost a cry for help? Even as he tried to feel out the magic's purpose, (something to do with possession of very small things) it was sucked away into the…thing. "Well that's not odd at all." He said sarcastically.

Then he lost consciousness, and woke up weeks later on the other side of the galaxy. He really wasn't sure what to make of that.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was sentient. He really wasn't sure how a _grain of sand_ had gained sentience, and he really wasn't sure he wanted to know. It did add new meaning to the adages about grains of sand though. Just imagine that one of them was sentient. Or imagine that more than one of them was sentient. He shuddered. Then he reached his mind toward the sentience he had discovered on his day off.

 _Hello sentience, I am…someone who stumbles upon these things more often than he'd like._ He felt something like acknowledgement come from the beach. Well, better than nothing. _Do you happen to know how you gained sentience? I've managed to determine that you_ are _self-aware, but not how that happened._ This time, he felt something like annoyance come from the beach. He stopped to consider his options.

 _Is this habitat necessary for you, or could I remove you from it?_ And then, the bewildered man heard one word in reply.

 _Hab_ _-_ _bit_ _-_ _tat_ _._

Habitat. What in the flying flip did that mean? _What do you mean? Is this sand your habitat? Could I remove you from it?_

 _S_ _-_ _san_ _._ _Deh_ _?_ The man felt something like acknowledgement from…whatever it was he'd found himself communicating with.

 _Do I take that to mean I can attempt to remove you?_ The man asked, politely.

 _Remoove_ _!_ Now the…mind(?) that he was communicating with felt eager.

Hours later, the man regretted getting involved with this endeavor in the first place. Isolating a single, _specific_ grain of sand was, from what he could tell, impossible. Someone must have really, really hated sand to come up with this punishment.

 **A/N: There's a lot going on here, to the chapter's a bit shorter than usual. I will say that there's some crossover in here, and it's even a little obvious. At the same time, it's really obtuse, and I don't expect anyone who doesn't live in my demented mind to understand.**

 **Thank you for reading, and whatever else you may have done. LiteratureSoccerEnthusiast, you are still this story's only follower. You have a special place in my heart.**

 **Best of wishes,**

 **feauxen**

 **Damnation. I forgot horizontal lines again.**

 **Fuck this.**


	6. Explanation?

**A/N: The story has a second follower! Angelscatie, you now have a special place in my heart. And I haven't forgotten about LiteratureSoccerEnthusiast, either. You are both pretty much the best.**

* * *

 _First, there was a boy. His name is lost to the ages, as far as pretty much anyone could tell, but one thing was certain. He grew up to be a_ legend _. He saved entire species from destruction, went up against the most powerful of beings and lived to tell the tale, and never, ever truly lost touch with his humanity. Now, there's quite a bit of speculation and confusion surrounding this particular legend, so today I will be attempting to clear up what I can._

 _I'll also probably bring up more questions than I answer, but that's unavoidable._

 _The legend was born, by popular account, in the sixth iteration of a small, reoccurring tradition. Apparently this neither upset nor excited him, as he was once quoted saying, "I looked around once I was able, decided that these beginnings were as good as any, and then started looking for ways to build upon them." And build he did. While eventually the population of his planet moved away, and the entire system was lost to history, the human race was arguably on equal footing with all the others out there before our legend started branching out. No one ever knew how he did everything he did, but had a habit of achieving the utterly impossible, often with an easy smile on his face. According to him, all he ever did was research and study, and occasionally a bit of innovation. Some thought he was full of it, but many of the greater minds competing with him agreed that our legend might just be telling the truth._

 _Now, something that I have wholly failed to get across so far is the scale of events we are looking at. It is important to note, when discussing this legend, that it has been arguably eight billion years since the "man" stepped into the spotlight. Yet, as they say, he doesn't show a day of it on his face. He claims to feel the weight of each passing second piling onto his shoulders, but many think he's just trying to be relatable. And he certainly isn't impossible to relate to, as his uncountable friends through the generations could attest. He seems quite determined never to become something more than human, and so he spends seemingly a full half of his time keeping track of humans, their achievements, and their style. One popular news outlet claimed that he hasn't been out of date since that Cheinginoglopanifargashapofintus disaster 7 millennia ago._

 _Summarizing the legend that I currently study is a task that cannot properly be done without leaving crucial information by the wayside. But it is my hope that all of the people out there can take my work; put together some pieces on their own, and eventually have an understanding of the material. Stay tuned, folks, for I am in many ways just another one of you, picking up pieces and trying to work them into the puzzle. And I certainly won't be stopping anytime soon._

 _For more on the legend…_

The _legend_ put down the day's news and chuckled. Time really did fly when one was having fun. Eight billion, huh? That did feel about right. He'd long since stopped counting the exact length of his life, but he hadn't been just blowing air when he'd said he could feel the seconds piling on. It was the kind of weight that left him glad of his many discoveries over the years, both those that allowed him to last, and those that helped ease the burdens of lasting.

The _legend,_ who still thought of himself as more of a man than anything, tilted his head back, feeling those seconds as they weighed him down harder, and harder, and harder. Then he smiled. He had a lot of work to do.

* * *

 **A/N: I realized that I hadn't explained some things that I probably should. I still haven't, but I'm keeping certain things under wraps for specific reasons. And that's not changing just yet. At any rate, to calm some fears, this is a** _ **Harry Potter**_ **story. It will begin in Harry's youth, or the bulk of it will, and it will follow a lot of the typical narrative points of a Harry Potter fanfic. But there's a whole lot more to the story than just that, and so I'm currently working on a great deal of backstory. And once a day, I'm putting out a drabble that hopefully keeps any interested parties interested, and also keeps me thinking about what** _ **exactly**_ **I'm trying to do here.**

 **I hope you all enjoy.**

 **Best of wishes,**

 **feauxen**


	7. Sorry

**A/N: Have a nice day. Or wait, read first, have a nice day second.**

 **Yeah, that's it.**

* * *

The ninja was not happy. Why not? Because he was currently hog-tied, nearly naked, and left in a dark corner like refuse. To top it all off, _someone_ was now gallivanting about in his outfit, ruining the reputation of ninja everywhere. When he was found, the ninja would have succumbed to merciful unconsciousness rather than contemplate that horror.

Then, the next morning, he would find that not only had his task been completed to perfection, (theoretically) his uniform was on the nightstand next to his bed, fully pressed and dry-cleaned. _And none of the four ninja who had been looking after his sleeping form knew how that uniform had gotten there in the middle of their vigil._ The ninja would remember this night as perhaps the strangest ever experienced by any ninja.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm not writing 500 more words to summarize our main character's botched assassination of Voldemort. Suffice to say this is the night he realized that Voldemort had been playing emo with his** _ **soul**_ **.**

 **Best of wishes,**

 **feauxen**


	8. Game

**A/N: I'm going to say beforehand that there will be a crossover in this…erm… Collection/standalone (of) drabble(s). Yeah, I actually have something of a plan** _ **before**_ **starting in on the body text this time. Isn't that novel? (I'll give you a hint. It's so novel for this drabble collection that this is the first time I've had** _ **any**_ **real plan since I was considering creating this thing. And that was before I started writing it at all.)**

* * *

Two men appeared, quite suddenly, in a gray building with translucent blue doors of varying sizes. The largest was probably more than two stories tall, and the smaller doors were mere meters high. Each door had a corresponding vehicle, and was quite clearly sized with said vehicles in mind. Even the river which ran through one side of the building had a door and a vehicle, in this case a rather small boat. While the vehicles were of a…unique design scheme, a knowledgeable could easily see that all were well armed, some even sporting armor. These were vehicles designed for fighting, transport, and little else. To someone completely unaware of what he'd gotten into, however, the vehicles, and indeed the building, looked quite odd, bordering on silly.

"Wait…what, exactly, is going on here?" After hovering for several seconds, the two men had dropped to the ground. One was clearly taking stock of his surroundings, and appeared to be tucking several identical guns into thin air. The other, who had just spoken, was not quite so composed. "I thought we were going to a club or something, not…what _is_ this?"

Whatever the more composed man had been doing, he finished, now fixing his eyes on the other man. "This is…a virtual space. Nothing you see or do in here is real. It's an ideal way to pass the time with minimal consequences."

The noob, for he truly was a noob, seemed to calm down a bit at that. "And why is this better than going to a club?"

The veteran player grinned viciously. "If you shoot up a club, the authorities take an interest. If you kill 5 people in here, it's an accomplishment that even the five victims can appreciate."

The noob was starting to see the appeal. And so, after a few minutes of explanation, a brief enemy attack that the veteran, with a little help from the noob, repelled easily, the two men got into the vehicle on the far left, which was clearly a tank of some sort. The noob took the driver's seat, while the veteran boarded the troop compartment below. Both had agreed that driving was the more interesting role, and better for a first timer. The veteran knew a few tricks that meant he wouldn't be staring at a wall for the whole drive, too, making him a better choice for what he called, "the lame seating."

After a brief bit of trouble with the door the tank began driving across the field to the enemy base. Slowly. As they traveled, a much faster vehicle flew past like they weren't even moving.

"Say, why aren't we each in one of those?" the noob asked. He could tell that they only seated one, but they still seemed a better choice than the tank.

The veteran's only response was, "Wait for it…"

Shortly after, a sizeable red beam hit the faster vehicle, annihilating it in a rather dramatic explosion. Bits of the destroyed flier shot forward with their momentum, revealing the body of the unfortunate pilot among the wreckage.

"That's why," the veteran said humorously. "I happen to know the guy who destroyed that mech, and he could hit one of those puny flying mechs in his sleep."

"Right…" the noob gulped, "what should I do about the fact that he's walking straight toward us?"

"Relax," the veteran said calmly, "when he's about two tank lengths away start shooting the missile launchers at him. If you miss, just back up and try again. You move faster than he does. And remember that those shots have quite a bit of explosive power, you don't need to be too precise."

Right, the noob thought. That sounds easy enough. He fired the first missile. It shot straight out, falling in a parabolic arc toward the ground. When the black ball touched the ground, a rather small fireball erupted, but the oncoming enemy was untouched. He'd been out of range.

"Uh…that didn't look so big," the noob said doubtfully.

"Trust me, it's far easier this way than with the smaller guns. The explosion effect is just for looks. Now keep shooting!"

It took six tries, but the noob did eventually manage to hit the encroaching enemy. The body flew quite a distance before disappearing. At the same instant it disappeared, the enemy respawned in his base.

"WOOOOOH!" the noob screamed. The veteran allowed himself a smile. At this rate, he'd have hooked another one. This game needed all the players it could get.

* * *

 **A/N: I'd love to say the extra length here is because I feel bad about writing shorter drabbles lately, but really it's not. I always set out to write a longer chapter after a short one, but sometimes it just doesn't work out. This chapter is only longer because I know the crossover material so well.**

 **Anyway, good salesmen will tell you that honesty is a terrible policy, so I'm going to end this chapter with a shout out to Jumprocks, the guy who created the amazing game I featured in this chapter, and Roblox for having a surprisingly fun selection of games hidden under all the refuse. If you're especially curious, look up Mech Battle – Score saving! and you should find it.**

 **Best of wishes,**

 **feauxen**


	9. In a Dark Room

**A/N: Good morning, all of you people in a vaguely similar time zone to mine. Also to the people who coincidentally read this in their morning. To the rest of you, good afternoon.**

 **And with the temporal greeting bases fully covered, I'm going to write a chapter now.**

* * *

"Why did you leave the lights off?!" The voice was upset, and not quiet.

"SHHH! My aunt is sleeping, and if we wake her up, she might kill us for real!" The second voice was nervous and panicky.

"That…well that explains that, I suppose. Why do you think she'll kill you though?"

"It used to be part of her job."

"Killing people who irritated her?"

"Close enough."

"What did she do, exactly?"

Instead of responding in that irritating voice, the nervous one hit the floor with a thump.

Before he could ask, the louder of the two felt something club-like knock him quite hard in the back of the head. "OW!"

There was a rustling from the floor, but irritating voice didn't return.

 _In the background, so quietly that both speakers almost missed it, some sheets slithered over each other, and there was a very soft thump._

The more panicky of the two got off the floor. "You _never_ ask that. I don't know how she knows, but you _never_ ask that!"

A sigh. "Then how did you find out what she…did."

"I live in the same apartment as her!"

"Right."

"Trust me, it's best not to think about it."

"Now, you said you had some-"

"Don't! Don't say that word! She'll wake up for real!"

"You are undoubtedly the most cowardly weapon dealer I've ever met."

The other person audibly cringed.

"Oh come on! Grow a spine. Now, should I spend my credits elsewhere, or do you have something for me?"

"I have plenty of things for you! Plenty plenty! Wait here."

The prospective buyer waited. There was some very quiet shuffling, a single grunt, and then the sound of footsteps coming back into the room.

"This is my selection." The voice was less irritating now, more businesslike.

"You don't have what I'm looking for."

"What? But you didn't even look…"

"What would be the point of looking, fool? It's too damned dark to see. I want something rather particular, and I came to you because you're supposed to have one."

"Oh…that. Those rumors…they're blown way out of proportion. I might have said I know what one looks like once, but now everyone thinks I have one."

"And do you?"

"No. _She_ does. And she wouldn't give it up for anything."

"Really? Huh. They're not that difficult to get your hands on, last I checked."

"They are around here, or you wouldn't be talking to me!"

"Most people ain't stuck here, dimwit. So where does she keep it?"

"Ehhm…you aren't suggesting…?"

"No, she'd notice right away. But I need to know where she keeps it."

"I-I don't know…p-please don't hurt me…"

"Oh, I won't. I need you alive to help explain things to her."

"Wait! Wait, no, you can't!"

But the lights were already on.

* * *

 **A/N: Well I had two ideas, and they turned into one cohesive idea. That was weird. Anyway, one of the two ideas involved a crossover, so there's that. Though if you actually spot the crossover, I will be so impressed that I can't even see straight. This is the kind of thing that** _ **I**_ **might not even spot when I come back to re-read things.**

 **You people should review my story, like at least once.**

 **Much gratefulness to the two followers still sticking with me, LiteratureSoccerEnthusiast and angelscatie. You two are awesome.**

 **Best of wishes,**

 **feauxen**


	10. Day Ten

So. It's been ten days now since I started this drabble collection. Funny coincidence, because all kind of stuff is happening, and I have some major plotline rethinks to do. As such, the next drable in the collection will be posted tomorrow. I just felt like I should tell the people who actually care enough to check on a daily basis, since they're the people I want to stick around the most.

Cheers,

~f


	11. Plots and Plans andstuff

**A/N: Due to the uncertain nature of a universe that is still being created, literally anything could happen.**

* * *

A blackish hole was sucking in some words. These words had significance because of what they were and how they were arranged. Across a lot of distance, a very old man turned in his sleep.

* * *

 _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…_

Hmm…it would work. Technically the "one" was already there, but "approaches" was vague enough to apply a number of circumstances. Now, how to fully ensure that he was the sole subject of this prophecy?

 _He shall be ancient beyond measure…_

No, then any passing and suitably ancient being would get caught up in things that they really shouldn't.

 _Wit beyond measure shall be his greatest treasure…_

No, that one had was taken. And it was too vague anyway. Maybe she needed to think about this differently. He had made himself deliberately more difficult to target with prophecy, in all likelihood, so she might just have to put him in a specific situation that she could then describe.

 _A match in combat, the challenger shall…hmm_

No, even she didn't know where she was going with that one. Then a devious idea struck her.

 _Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…_

Of course, manipulating events to apply that to him would be a challenge, but it would definitely be worth it. And now that she was working with _that…_ yes, this had some serious potential. Now all she had to do was set up a fight between the two, make some vague statement locking in the inevitability of such a fight, and maybe toss out a few other clues. Yes…this would work marvelously.

* * *

 **A/N: So, yesterday I didn't give you a drabble. This one has to do with what I was working on instead of writing.**

 **This is your friendly reminder that anything in here is subject to decanonization when (or before) the story these events teases at gets written, because the story is still very much in the early stages.**

 **Best of wishes,**

 **feauxen**


	12. Day 12

More work is being done, and this isn't the kind of thing I'm liable to get done in a day. I really a sorry about that, but putting together a better and more cohesive timeline than I currently have is something of a priority.


End file.
